


Wary

by luluren



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Flashbacks, M/M, intense Speirs, through the war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 14:35:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8756386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luluren/pseuds/luluren
Summary: Back and forth, past and present, and always some kind of wariness.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [readerr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/readerr/gifts).



Lipton’s never been scared of him. Wary would be a better word.

He’s wary of the man now, but the feeling doesn’t bring any bad connotations with it - it’s more of an excited sort of wariness. 

Speirs looks at him like he’s some sort of prey. It sends a shiver down Lip’s arms as they stare at one another across the dark room.

\----------------------------------

_He remembers seeing him that first day. Passed right by Speirs as he made his way to where Easy was waiting in that courtyard, right before the fight at Brecourt Manor._

_(That’s where the first ‘Speirs is a madman’ story comes in, but Lip has a hard time believing it. Or maybe he just doesn’t want to think that Speirs shot those half a dozen prisoners. It makes for a scary story at least.)_

_And then at Brecourt - Lip watched, mouth agape, as Speirs charged the fourth gun, his men getting hit but the bullets magically missing him. It’s against all laws of physics, it seems, but Speirs survives._

_He wonders sometimes if Speirs made a deal with the devil because how else has he survived everything he’s done?_

_Afterwards, Lipton finds a hard spot next to a bombed out building and sits down for the first time that day. He leans his head back and stares up at the black sky, in disbelief that he’s actually made it._

_But then Speirs walks past, back straight and gun slung across his shoulder, and Lipton watches through half closed eyes his progress down the street. Watching Speirs leaves an odd feeling in his stomach he can’t explain._

\----------------------------------

Speirs moves forward, steps long and careful, never taking his eyes off Lip. 

Lipton’s never had anyone look at him like this before, not even his wife on their wedding night. There’s so much undisguised need in Speirs’ gaze and it takes Lip’s breath away. 

Speirs doesn’t stop until he’s crowded Lipton against the wall but then he goes no further. They stare at one another and Lip wonders what expression is on his face - if it’s still wariness or maybe it’s something deeper. 

Speirs moves slowly and takes Lipton’s left hand in his, stares down at the gold wedding band on Lip’s finger. He’s gentle as he twirls the ring around and around until it slides off. The ring makes a quiet tinkle when Speirs places it on the bedside table.

“Just you and me, Second Lieutenant.”

\----------------------------------

_When Lipton gets hit at Carentan, he almost faints. Not from the pain or the shock but from where the wound is._

_Jesus, he thinks, please let it still be there._

_And according to Tab it is._

_He’s lying on a stretcher outside the aid station waiting to be taken back to England when Speirs walks past. Lipton closes his eyes, lost in a haze of morphine, but then there’s pressure on his shoulder that wasn’t there a second ago. He opens his eyes and stares hazily up at Speirs, who says nothing and does nothing other than a quick squeeze._

_Lipton watches him walk away and slips back into darkness._

\----------------------------------

Lipton’s heard the men call Speirs’ eyes dangerous. Murderous. And while Lip would agree to a certain extent, he also thinks intense might be a better word. 

Speirs never takes his eyes off Lip after removing his wedding band, and barely blinks when he brings his arms up, trapping Lip against the wall. 

“Are you ever not intense?” Lipton asks, his voice carrying through the room. He tips his head back and gives a half smile. 

Somehow Speirs’ eyes go even darker and he leans in, inches separating them. “I’m always intense.”

\----------------------------------

_Lipton worries a lot while in hospital in England. Yeah, everything is where it should be but will it work like it should? There’s no privacy for him to check, and nothing around to even give him the urge to try._

_It isn’t until he’s back with Easy, on his way to London for the weekend and with a hotel room all to himself that he tries._

_He does. And it works._

_He pictures his wife on their wedding night, all soft and lovely in a white shift that hung just so off her shoulder. How shy she was when Lipton leaned down and pressed a kiss to that milky skin, thinking_ it’s all mine, all of it. _It’s what he pictures that night in England, except at the very end when Speirs’ face comes to the forefront of his mind and he spills all over his stomach._

_He lays on the bed staring up at the ceiling for a while afterwards._

\----------------------------------

“I’m disappointed you even asked me that question, Second Lieutenant.”

“And I’m disappointed you keep calling me Second Lieutenant.”

Speirs does that half smile thing and Lipton smiles back.

\----------------------------------

_It’s in Bastogne when Speirs goes from the mad-Lieutenant from D Company to someone Lipton finds himself admiring. They don’t run into each other often, but Lip sees him every few days._

_One night, huddled in his foxhole, arms around himself to contain the shivering, Speirs appears out of nowhere. He stares at Lipton like Lip’s from another planet before jumping in the hole._

_“First Sergeant,” he says, pressing his side against Lipton’s._

_“Lieutenant.”_

_“Where’s Captain Dike?”_

_Lipton sighs - he’s tired of answering this question. “In his foxhole, sir. Or back at HQ.”_

_“You don’t know which one?”_

_“I could guess for you, sir.” The words are out of Lipton’s mouth before thinking and he glances over at Speirs, half expecting a reprimand, but the man’s staring at him with one corner of his mouth quirked up._

_He waits for Speirs to say something, but he just continues to look at Lipton until Lip turns his gaze away because it’s just too damn intense._

_They sit together in the cold and dark, Lipton surreptitiously pressing closer for the warmth and Speirs lights a cigarette. They pass it back and forth until it’s gone._

\----------------------------------

“Carwood,” Speirs whispers. 

Hearing his name come out of that mouth makes Lipton smile shyly. “No one calls me Carwood.”

\----------------------------------

_Getting sick is bad._

_Having Speirs waiting on him is even worse._

_He wakes up in the middle of the night to find Speirs sitting on the edge of his bed, his face blank and his hand on Lipton’s thigh. It’s a warm hand despite the chill in the air and Lip coughs weakly._

_“How are you feeling?” Speirs asks._

_“Better,” Lip answers, voice barely audible._

_Speirs smiles. “You’re a terrible liar. Go back to sleep.”_

_Lip is sure it’s going to be hard to fall asleep with Speirs so close, but it’s surprisingly easy to drift away. When he wakes up a few hours later, he’s not surprised to see Speirs lying on the floor, curled up on an old blanket._

\----------------------------------

The room is silent except for the breeze ruffling the curtains at the window, and Lip sucks in a deep breath. Speirs has him trapped against the wall, his eyes so dark they’re almost black and God, he wants Speirs to do whatever it is he’s going to do. 

He wants him to make the first move.

It doesn’t occur to him until a few seconds later that he doesn’t have to wait. 

Lipton can be the one to make that move.

\----------------------------------

_Speirs finds him the night after the camp. It’s a bad night, almost as bad as the shelling in the woods of Belgium when Lipton laughed because it reminded him of fireworks._

_He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to laugh again._

_Speirs pours two glasses of an amber colored liquid and passes one over. “Drink.”_

_Lipton’s only had alcohol a few times in a his life but he doesn’t hesitate to take a sip now. The drink warms his stomach, his throat on fire, and he downs the rest of it._

_“Are you ok?” Speirs asks softly, dangerously, like he’s going to go on a rampage if Lip tells him no._

_“Are you?”_

_Speirs isn’t expecting the question, and his mouth opens and closes a few times before he shakes his head._

\----------------------------------

Lipton reaches up - he knows his hand is moving at a normal rate but it feels like it’s happening in slow motion. His fingers come in contact with skin that’s covered in stubble and he watches as Speirs’ eyes widen.

It’s like he can’t believe Lipton is making the first move. 

“Ron,” Lip murmurs, fingers travelling around to the back of Speirs’ neck, convinced he’s not going to be able to take another breath if the man doesn’t kiss him _right now._

But he does.

And it’s intense, just like the man. 

Lipton smiles against those warm lips and deepens the kiss, knowing he’s finally where he’s wanted to be.

**Author's Note:**

> This one's for you readerr - thank you so much for the inspiration and the challenge of a new pairing! I hope you enjoyed. xo.


End file.
